The Day I Decided to Test the Cosmos
You know how it is. Sometimes you hit a wall so hard, you start looking for answers in the weirdest places. Late 2020 into early 2021, I was absolutely stuck. I was putting in the hours—we’re talking 70-hour weeks—but my career felt like a rusty old wagon stuck in the mud. No traction, no respect, and definitely no money matching the effort. I was bitter, folks. Really bitter. I needed a switch, a complete reset, but I didn’t even know which direction to point the car.
I distinctly remember the night I saw that headline flash across my feed. It was Jan 29th, 2021. I was just scrolling, ready to trash my laptop, and there it was: “What great opportunities does the Virgo Career Horoscope Feb 2021 bring?” I’m a Virgo, and normally I scoff at this junk, but I was desperate enough to bite. I clicked it. The reading was full of vague but motivating nonsense—stuff about the alignment of Mars in the 10th house or whatever—but the core message resonated: February was a month for action, for shedding old skin, and for networking like a maniac.
I decided right there, sitting in my messy home office, that I wasn’t just going to read it. I was going to treat it like a damn project brief. I committed. I documented everything. I structured my approach around three “Simple Steps” that the article vaguely hinted at, turning spiritual advice into cold, hard labor.
Defining and Executing the Simple Steps
I grabbed a fresh notebook—yes, physical paper, old school—and titled the first page ‘Operation Feb 2021 Opportunity Seeker.’ I broke down the prophecy into actionable items. This wasn’t about manifesting; this was about forcing reality to match the prediction through sheer effort.
Step One: Obliterate the Isolation.
The horoscope kept screaming about connections. My current problem was I hated talking to people outside my immediate team. I had to change that. I immediately scheduled five informational calls per week for the entire month of February. I reached out to people I hadn’t talked to since college, former colleagues, and even people I barely knew on LinkedIn who were doing interesting things. I wasn’t asking for a job; I was asking for advice, insight, and just generally putting my name back into the current of professional conversation. I tracked every single call: who I talked to, what we discussed, and one actionable takeaway. It was exhausting. I felt phony at first, but I pushed through the awkwardness.
Step Two: Build the Showreel.
The reading mentioned opportunities arising from proving your value. My current resume was a boring list of duties. It didn’t showcase what I could actually do. For two weeks straight, every night after my main job finished, I scraped together every piece of side work, personal project, and successful internal initiative I had completed in the last two years. I designed a simple, clean portfolio site using a cheap template I bought online. It wasn’t fancy, but it showed results, metrics, and actual impact. I locked down the content by Feb 15th, replacing the old, dusty PDF resume with a link to the new site.
Step Three: Be Ready to Jump.
This was the hardest one. It required mental preparation for a massive shift. I decided I wouldn’t just wait for opportunities to come up; I would actively search for roles that scared me—jobs I felt only 70% qualified for. I sent out applications for three high-level positions I knew I probably wouldn’t get, just to get practice interviewing and to see what the market was demanding. I rehearsed my elevator pitch in front of the mirror until my dog got confused. I was forcing myself to stand at the edge of the cliff.
The Unexpected Harvest
Did I get a promotion in February? No. Did my boss suddenly realize my genius? Nope. The immediate results were silence and rejection. The three big scary applications? Two polite declines and one ghosting.
But something crucial happened on Feb 26th. It came directly from the aggressive networking of Step One.
I had connected with a guy who used to work in the same building six years ago. We had a decent 20-minute chat about the industry. A week later, he called me back, completely unsolicited. He told me his current company—a much smaller, scrappier startup—had just lost their lead on a major strategic initiative. He had recommended me based purely on the quality of my portfolio site (Step Two) and the “energy” I brought to our brief informational call (Step One). He wasn’t offering me a full-time job; he was offering a contract role that was three times my current hourly rate, running the whole damn project myself.
I took the leap (Step Three fulfilled). I gave my notice on March 1st. I didn’t wait for permission or reassurance. I just jumped. I realized that the horoscope wasn’t a map; it was just a random incentive that forced me to stop complaining and start doing the heavy lifting I had avoided for months.
That Feb 2021 experiment didn’t bring magical alignment; it brought self-imposed pressure. I crafted the opportunity myself simply by applying organized, frantic effort to a stupid horoscope prediction. Now, that contract gig? It turned into my current full-time position, a substantial pay bump, and an environment where I actually feel valued. Sometimes, you just need a ridiculous premise—like Mars in the 10th house—to kick your butt into gear.
